Another Side, Another Story
by idiotique
Summary: Everyone knows how Sora saved the universe. Everyone knows how Riku overcame the darkness in his heart. Everyone knows how Kairi waited for her friends. Everyone knows how Roxas questioned his existence. Everyone knows their stories, but what of Naminé's?
1. Prologue: Reflection

_A/N: And so the 358/2 Days rewrite has won in the polls, therefore the first chapter has been posted like I promised =) Hope you guys like it!_

_--_

**Prologue: Reflection**

_ "Whoever you are, let Ri-go! Give him back his heart!"_

A boy.

_"But first, you must give the princess back her heart."_

A key.

_"Don't you see yet? The princess' heart is responding. It has been there all along. Ka-heart rests within you!"_

Eyes.

_"Ka-...Kai-inside me?"_

Blue.

A flash of red.

A girl.

_"Forget it! There's no way you're taking Kai-heart!"_

Anger.

_"It won't work! The keyhole's not finished yet!"_

_ "What can we do?"_

Fear.

_"Maybe we've gotta go wake K-up."_

The girl.

Thalassa shells.

_"A Keyblade that unlocks people's hearts...I wonder."_

A black, keychainless weapon.

The boy.

_"Hold on!"_

_ "No, wait!"_

A cheeky grin.

A flash of light.

_"So-!"_

The girl.

Eyes.

Blue eyes.

--

The moment her eyes flew open her hand shot upward, as if she was trying to reach for the sky.

Except there wasn't a sky.

A few minutes after her vision adjusted she realized she was staring at grey, lumpy stone. She sat up and looked around, scrunching her brow in confusion when she found nothing else but rocks, rocks and more rocks. It smelled damp here, and there was moss oozing out in between the cracks of the stony walls. Strange, childlike drawings were scrawled onto the rocks with white chalk.

How did she get here?

She crawled towards the wall, the one with the drawings. One in particular caught her attention: it was of a boy feeding a girl a strange star-shaped fruit. She grazed the boy's face with her fingers.

_"I'm always with you too. I'll come back to you, I promise!"_

She glanced at her hands and frowned. She made fists. She relaxed them.

She pressed her palms down on the smooth dirt, pushing herself into a standing position. She dusted off her white skirt and wandered towards the end of the tiny, rocky cave. The more steps she took the brighter everything seemed to get. She could hear the noisy shifting of a waterfall outside.

When she finally exited the congested cave she was hit with a sudden warmth; she glanced upwards and shielded her eyes with her hand, blinking at the sun beating down on her pallid skin. The rushing waterfall was to her left, pouring crystal-clear water into a small pool. Lush green leaves sprouted out of spotless beige sand. Waves lapped the shore not so far away.

Where was she?

Curious, she took a few more steps forward, carefully climbing down the natural plateaus until she reached the beach.

How did she know this was called a beach?

She could feel the warm grains of sand brushing against her toes as she stepped closer towards the water. Gulls hollered and flapped overhead. Fish splashed around in the deeper ends of the ocean.

Ocean?

Was that what it was? She stepped closer towards the small waves, tilting her head in confusion. The farther the water went the deeper the blue became. There was no end to the blue; it almost seemed to run right into the sky.

Where did all the water go? Was there enough space for it?

The sun glimmered on the water's surface, casting millions of sparkles along the rippling waves. She bent over a little to take a closer look.

She gasped.

She saw a face.

She knelt down, twitching a bit when the cold water splashed around her knees. She squinted as she tried to search for the face; every time the sun rolled over the waves the face would come back, but only for a few seconds.

Oh, there it is again!

It was pale and framed with tendrils of white-blonde hair that flipped over its right shoulder. The face had a small nose and pale pink lips with corners that tugged downwards in a slight frown. The face's eyes were large, blue-grey and sort of sad-looking.

Why was the face sad?

She reached to touch the face, but when she did the face reached towards her too. She raised an eyebrow in confusion and the face mimicked her again. Her head tilted to the side, and so did the face's.

Was this...was this her reflection?

But if it was her reflection, she wouldn't be so surprised. Surely she remembered what she looked like…

_"Kai-!"_

She reached for her right shoulder; the face in the water pulled her fingers through her unruly platinum tresses. Her hand moved to her lips; the face did the same.

This is...her?

This was her reflection.

This was what she looked like.

Why was she so sad?

"That's you."

She jumped in surprise, cringing when the frigid water splashed onto her skirt. She scrambled to her feet and eyed the figure in black standing a few feet away. It was tall, and its face was covered in a black hood.

"I know it's a little hard to believe, but it really is you." She could hear a smile in that deep, monotonous voice.

She swallowed and tried to square her shoulders, but ended up trembling childishly. She couldn't find her voice; her throat was enclosed, clenched together. It was almost hard to breathe.

What was going on? What was happening to her?

"I know the answers to your questions," The voice continued, "I know why that face in the water looks so unfamiliar. I know who you are."

Unfamiliar?

She lowered her head, staring at her hands again. They were still wet from when she was kneeling over the water; the sun glistened over the wet, ashen skin.

Who is she?

"Believe it or not there are more people like you," The voice spoke up again, "People that are just as confused and lost and curious as you. People like you and I."

She raised her head; the voice was like her too?

"Ah, now I've caught your attention." The hooded figure stepped forwards, the sand crunching noisily underneath its black boots. It stood beside her, placing its hands behind its back and gazing out into the open water. "If you come with me, you will find the answers you are looking for."

Her common sense was telling her that this voice, this hooded figure, this whatever, was just playing around with her but something else, she had no idea what it was, was telling her to go. She needed answers…

She couldn't even remember her name.

"With every new face," The hood was angled towards the water; she glanced down and found the same, sad, pale face staring back at her, "Comes a new name. A new identity." The hood turned to glance at the face in the water, her reflection. Her. "You are a completely different person now. You are not who you used to be."

Who was she before?

"Hm…" The hood murmured to itself, contemplating. Thinking. Creating. "Waves…" Its boot absently kicked at the water, wetting and darkening the leather. "Birth…"

She glanced up at the hooded figure, blinking curiously; what was it talking about?

The figure suddenly held out one arm, palm flowered out and facing the ocean. A swirling oval of black and purple fog appeared out of nowhere, just a few feet away from them. Her eyes widened in surprise, and they widened even more when the hooded figure began to walk towards it, the turquoise and cobalt waves lapping gently against the black cloak. Just before it stepped into the fog, however, the hooded figure turned around and beckoned her with one gloved hand.

"Come, Naminé," It crooned, "There is much to learn."

--

_A/N: Okay, I'll be honest with you - the only reason I'm writing this is because I didn't like the plot for 358/2 Days, so I decided to write my own version; it won't be the game from Naminé's POV, but rather what I thought _should've_ happened - 'cause let's face it: Xion - whom I do not feel any animosity towards - was just a last-minute addition to quell the worst of the Akuroku fandom. Why add a new character when you can just elaborate on an overlooked, already-existing one?_

_Regardless, there will be some elements of the game in the story so if you haven't played it yet this is a spoiler warning!_

_When translated _Naminé_ means _'born from the waves';_ the _nami_ part comes from _oceanwave_ in Japanese and _né_ means _birth_ in French. Just a little factoid for you all =)_

_There are two main musical inspirations for this song: _

_1. Evanescence's _Fields of Innocence: _I thought the lyrics captured Naminé's thoughts and feelings perfectly._

_2. Utada Hikaru's _Beautiful World: _The lyrics fit the Rokunami-ness quite right, and_ _the KH games used Hikki's music as their theme songs so why should this story be any different? =)_

_Wow, what a long A/N. Haha._

_Anyways, I hope the prologue pleased you!_

_Reviews make me happy =) Please and thank you!_


	2. The Prisoner

**The Prisoner.**

Her eyes fluttered open, and all she saw was white.

The walls were white, the floors were white, the ceiling was white.

Her bed was white, the sheets were white, the clothes she wore were white.

Everything was white.

She swung her thin legs over the side of her bed, sleepily rubbing her pale blues. Another dreamless night had passed, but she wasn't complaining; she never desired to dream.

Yawning away the remnants of her grogginess she shuffled over to the shower. The hot water pelting her skin was always refreshing in the morning; she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the glass, listening to the water swirl into the drain in between her feet.

Minutes later she stepped back into the white room, wearing a plain white dress. She bent over to pull on her sandals before moving to the opposite wall to part the light grey curtains covering the wide window. The moonlight emitting from the strange, heart-shaped moon casted a silvery glow on her pale features, making her look almost ghostlike, imaginary. Non-existent.

There was a long table in the centre of the room; multiple pieces of white paper were strewn all over its wooden surface, covered with drawings of people, places and things she had seen in random images that would pop into her head at unexpected times during the day. Pushed off to the corner were boxes full of crayons - the only indication of colour in the entire room besides her light blue sandals.

She made her way towards the far end of the table, her hand running along the smooth surface of the white wood. Her eyes momentarily paused on the small white vase in the centre of the table, occupied with white flowers. She wondered if they were real - probably not, since she never had to replace them before.

She sat at her usual white chair, tucking herself in towards the table and reaching for a blank piece of paper. As she extended her arm to grab one of the crayon boxes her eyes wandered around the table, examining her previous pieces of art: each image was doused in colour, and there was hardly any white space. She pulled out a black crayon, short and stubby from overuse, and tapped the end of it against her chin, her eyes wandering towards the ceiling. What should she draw today?

"Ah," her voice was very soft, almost childlike. She pressed her crayon to the paper and her hand immediately began to work its wonders: shapeless lines and curves weaved together to create a heavily-detailed drawing of a clock tower looming over a town so large the houses looked like they were cramped together. The big white void behind the clock tower was bothering her, so she reached for her other crayons.

Half an hour later she leaned back to observe her progress: the town was not coloured in yet but behind the clock tower was a brilliant sunset layered in varying shades of red, pink, violet, orange and yellow. A small smile crept up on her delicate features, satisfied with what she had done so far, and reached up to mechanically flatten her hair. There was a rebellious strand of hair somewhere at the back that managed to curl outward somewhat, no matter how many times she would comb it, and she tugged on it in frustration. Giving up for now, she sighed and returned to her drawing.

Sometime later she leaned backwards in her chair, staring up towards the ceiling. Her arms were limp by her sides; her right hand was still holding onto a red crayon. She wished she knew what time of the day it was; even with a window in the room it was hard to tell because it was always nighttime. She missed the sun, though she only had very faint memories of how it felt like to be under it. She leaned forward once again, stooping over her drawing; more than half of the houses underneath the clock tower were coloured in now.

A soft click broke the deafening silence, and her flaxen head jerked towards the door. A tall figure shrouded in black emerged, followed by a couple others. They were all wearing the same black cloak and their faces were concealed behind similar black hoods.

"Naminé," The tallest one had a deep, almost monotonous voice; he pulled his hood off, revealing dark skin, long silvery hair and scorching sulphur hues. The way he bellowed her name made her want to crawl back into bed and cower under the covers, "You are looking well."

The faint memory of standing beside him on the shore popped into her head, and she twitched.

The shorter figures who followed him also removed their hoods; one had a cruel simper on her pixie-like face, and blonde hair. The other had a feathery coral mane; his features were not as devious as the woman's but that did not necessarily mean he looked kind either.

"It's time to start," The tall one said. She stared at her lap, biting her bottom lip, "Are you ready?"

Naminé only nodded once; the coral-haired man approached her slowly, running a gloved hand across her shoulders. He bent over to place his lips by her ear. "There's nothing to be afraid of, little girl," His velvety voice murmured; she could hear the smirk in his words, "So don't tremble. You're in good hands."

"Ugh," The woman's nose was up in the air, "You're so creepy, Marluxia. Let's just get on with it so we can get out of here. I've got better things to do than sit around and watch some kid finger paint, or whatever."

"It looks like she's gotten started without us," The coral-haired man, Marluxia, picked up her partially completed drawing and examined it closely, "Look." He flipped it over so that his companions could see.

The man with the strange eyes chuckled. "She's good." He turned towards the entrance. "I'll leave you to your own devices, then." He disappeared behind the door, closing it. There was a quiet click.

The woman's sneer deepened; she pressed an index finger underneath Naminé's chin, forcing her to look up. The woman's eyes were cold, hazel-green slits. "Looking at you always gets me so angry." She turned to face Marluxia, who was distractedly scouring the other drawings scattered around the white table, "Why do you think that's so?"

"Maybe because she's got a knack for drawing pretty pictures." He chuckled and raised his head to smirk at her. The woman rolled her eyes.

"Oh please," She grabbed the drawing of the clock tower and looked at it for a few seconds before tossing it back, "Like drawing stupid pictures will help _me_ with anything." She turned to glare at the younger girl, who reverted back to staring down at her lap. "Useless."

"Now, now, Larxene," Marluxia tutted, he leaned back against the table with his arms crossed, "Play nice. Naminé's a great help to our organization."

"Whatever." The blonde woman spun on her heel and moved to sit down on a nearby chair. She rested her chin in her hand and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "So, what now?"

"We help Naminé, of course." Marluxia approached the youngest of the three; Naminé's eyes slowly shifted towards her drawing. He bent over again, his face uncomfortably close to hers. "What was it that you were drawing earlier, little one?"

She fiddled with the hem of her dress, trying to avoid his eyes. "Erm," She hesitated, wracking her brains for a good enough answer, "I-I don't know. It...it sort of just came to me."

Larxene rolled her eyes, but Marluxia pressed onward. "Came to you? In what, a dream?" He caught a wisp of Naminé's platinum blonde hair in between his fingers, studying it closely. She swore she heard him mutter, "Hm, split ends."

"N-no, I don't...I don't have dreams. Sometimes during the day I get...images. Pictures. They come to me and I draw them." She absently reached for her stray lock of hair and pulled on it. "I...don't know where they come from."

"Interesting," Marluxia had let go of her hair and was now stroking his chin, "Perhaps Vexen and Zexion should be informed of this. They might find it useful in their research."

"What, the fact that some kid Superior picked off a random beach a couple of weeks ago has random hallucinations? Yeah, that sounds useful!" Larxene threw her hands up, "Really, what part does she play in all of this?"

"Well, obviously she has some sort of a power," Marluxia explained exasperatingly, as if he had done this before, "And the images she creates...it's clear they're of some importance. We've been to the places and seen some of the people she's drawn; she has to have some sort of connection with what we're looking for."

"Uh huh," Larxene did not look impressed, "Well, when you find out what that connection is come back and see me." She stood up so quickly she nearly knocked her chair over. "I'm bored - maybe Axel or Demyx can entertain me. Later."

"Larxene," Marluxia protested, "You know you're supposed to stay here and help."

The blonde shook her head and smiled the same cruel smile she had on when she first walked into the room. "Nah, it looks like you're doing fine on your own."

"Superior won't like it if he hears this."

"Then let him hear it." Larxene waved goodbye with two fingers before shutting the door behind her. Marluxia sighed and shook his head, his tendrils of pink swaying deftly about his face.

"If there ever comes a time when Nobodies can age, make sure you grow up to be _nothing_ like her."

--

The daily experiment ran for a couple hours; it usually comprised of Naminé simply drawing whatever came to mind while Marluxia (and sometimes Larxene) observed her from a distance. The coral-haired man wasn't exactly kind; he was a little too touchy for her liking, but at least he showed her some respect. Everybody in the Castle That Never Was acknowledged the small girl as their hostage, a prisoner kept in the highest floor of their large headquarters, but they hardly did anything she could consider cruel - mean, yes, but not cruel. For some reason Larxene, the only female of Organization XIII, was different. Harsher. It was as if she looked at her as some kind of lesser being instead of a living companion.

_"Looking at you always gets me so angry." _Her cutting words were embedded into Naminé's head later that evening, long after Marluxia had gone. The girl sniffled as she neatly stacked her drawings into a small pile. What had she done to impose such hatred? Was there something she wasn't remembering?

She had no memory of a life before the Organization; she couldn't remember having a home, a family or friends. She couldn't even remember what she looked like until she glanced into the water…

She remembered waking up in that small, dank cave. She remembered walking out to see the bright blue water and the warm sun and the clean sand. She remembered the man in the hood - Xemnas, or Superior or whatever - and how he promised to answer all of her questions if she came with him.

She remembered walking through the strange purple and black fog. She remembered seeing the castle for the first time. She remembered him talking to her about things she never heard of before: light, darkness, Heartless, Kingdom Hearts…

She remembered him giving her a new name.

"Naminé," She whispered to herself as she put away her crayons, stacking them on top of each other. It sounded so unfamiliar, so foreign. "Naminé," She whispered again, walking towards the bathroom to change for bed.

She glanced into the mirror and studied her appearance; she noted how pale her skin was, how big her eyes were and the fairness of her hair. She slowly reached upwards to touch her cheek, and her reflection did the same. For some reason she felt as if she wasn't supposed to look like this. Her hair wasn't supposed to be this light, this long. Her skin wasn't supposed to be this pasty. Her eyes were the wrong shade of blue.

She re-emerged minutes later dressed in a simple pair of short shorts and a thin top with spaghetti straps - all white, of course. She was still pondering over her name as she stepped out of her sandals, pulled the curtains over her window and crawled into bed, pulling the covers to her chin and staring up at the blank ceiling.

"Naminé." She whispered a third time; for some reason it didn't sound right.

If it didn't sound right, did that mean she had another name? Was she supposed to be someone other than a helpless girl sitting alone in a stark white room, doomed forever to draw pictures for mysterious hooded figures?

She didn't know why, but the corners of her eyes began to sting. She curled up underneath the sheets, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing her face into her knees. She didn't like crying; she hated the ache that burned her throat and the irritating itchiness in her eyes. She hated how her stomach felt like it was clenched up in a thousand knots. She hated this white room and how it was so quiet all of the time. She hated Larxene, Marluxia and the others who kept her here. She hated how she felt so vulnerable under Xemnas' stare. She hated the feeling of being isolated from everyone else. She hated how she felt so lonely and incomplete.

As quickly as it came, however, the fire that roared inside of her dissipated. Hate was such a strong word. Naminé couldn't hate; she didn't have it in her to do it. It was too powerful of a feeling, and she wasn't powerful at all. She really didn't hate everything, but she was getting fed up. She wanted something different. Somewhere to go. Someone to care for her. Someplace to come home to.

She thought of the places she drew in her sketchbook and wondered if she had ever been to any of them. Maybe one of them was her home? She pictured the faces of the people she drew and wondered if any of them were her friends. The ache inside intensified and she hugged herself tighter; her tears streamed freely down her face, dripping onto the sheets. She slowly unwound one of her arms to press a hand against her chest. She felt no pulse, no rhythm. This only brought more tears.

A Nobody - that was what Xemnas called her. That was what Xemnas called everyone in this strange place. How could they exist without a heart? A heart was vital to every living being, was it not? How could she exist right here, right now, if there was no rhythmic beating in her chest? How could these tears be coursing down her ashen face when she wasn't supposed to be feeling any sort of emotion?

She swiped at her eyes, sniffling and rolling over on her stomach. Crying always made her feel tired afterwards, for some reason. Maybe it was because she put so much energy in trying to stop? She didn't know how these things worked.

Exhaling shakily, she closed her eyes and pressed her face into her pillow, dreaming black dreams.

How was she hurting so much when she didn't even have a heart?

--

_A/N: This chapter was partially inspired by The Postal Service's _This Place Is A Prison.


	3. The Stranger

**The Stranger.**

Naminé didn't know how she managed to wake up in the morning (or whatever time it was, she couldn't tell) without an alarm or some sort of reminder. Hearts served as an internal rhythm; if they didn't have to get up at a specific time people woke according to whenever their hearts felt was right. If she didn't have a heart, how did she know when to wake up?

She showered and changed, much like the day before, and the day before that, and the days preceding that. She parted her curtains and sat at the head of her white table like she always did, scribbling on another piece of paper. Today she was drawing a picture of a large library with long windows and bookshelves stacked with old, thick tomes - the image came to her in the shower.

As she reached for a purple crayon a soft click from the door was heard. She raised an eyebrow; it felt a little early for today's exercise. The door swung open and in walked Marluxia, followed by Larxene (who looked a little more frustrated than usual). Naminé's free hand began to reach upwards towards her flick of hair.

"It's too early for this," Larxene grumbled, forcing herself down on a chair and resting her head in her arms, "I need my beauty sleep!"

Marluxia scoffed. "Beauty sleep? More like a beauty coma."

The blonde's head immediately jerked upwards. "Watch it." She spat through gritted teeth.

"Don't pull on that," The coral-haired man strode over to the smaller blonde and smacked her hand away from her hair, "It's not good for the roots." He shook his head, clearing the bangs out of his eyes. "Now, you're probably wondering why we're here so early."

"How could she know what time of the day it is? She doesn't have a clock."

"Take a nap, Larxene." Marluxia grumbled, but he recomposed himself and smiled kindly down at the young artist, who was gripping the hem of her dress. "We have a lot of work to do for the Organization today, which is why we're here now." He bent over to examine the half-finished drawing of the library. "Oh? What's this?"

"Er," Naminé's hand was itching to tug on her hair but she tightened her hold on her dress instead, "A library?"

"Nooo...really?" Larxene rolled her eyes, her voice saturated with sarcasm. Marluxia shot her a glare.

"Have you seen this library somewhere before? Does it hold any sort of familiarity to you?"

The young girl shook her head. "N-no…" Her eyes lingered on her drawing and the corners of her mouth pulled downwards, "Well, I've never seen it before but...but for some reason it feels like...it feels like I've been there."

"Hm," Marluxia stroked his chin, "So it's familiar to you, somewhat."

"Yes…"

"What about the other places you've drawn?" Marluxia gestured towards the other pieces of paper stacked beside her crayon boxes, "You've drawn castles and towns and jungles...do you have the same feeling towards them as you do with the drawing of the library?"

Naminé shook her head again. "N-no...I don't feel the same towards anything else...except that library."

"Great," Larxene barked out in dark laughter, "Now we're getting somewhere."

"Your pessimism was only charming the first time around." Marluxia hissed.

Naminé shrunk in her chair as Larxene stood up, her gloved hands balling into fists. "I don't get how you do it, Marluxia," The older blonde shook her head, crossing over to where the younger one was sitting, "This kid's only going to get you running in circles. Why can't you or Superior see that you won't get anything out of her little art projects?"

"Do I have to explain everything again? She's different from the rest of us; she's got a power-"

_"Different?"_ Larxene bent over a little to peer into Naminé's face; the younger girl shrunk farther into her chair, attempting to avoid the chilling green glower that was boring holes into her. Larxene's pixie features relaxed into a calm smile as she reached forward to stroke her cheek with the back of her leather-clad hand. "Yes, she _is _something, isn't she? All petite and delicate and fragile - a pretty little girl holed up in this room all day with only a few pieces of paper and some crayons to pass the time." Her hand stiffened for a moment and Naminé flinched; the older woman suppressed a laugh.

"Enough, Larxene…" Marluxia muttered, but his words fell on deaf ears. Naminé felt her eyes burning and she sniffled; this only further entertained Larxene, who gaped in mock surprise.

"Oh? The Nobody's sad." A tear slipped down the girl's cheek and the older woman watched it drip off the end of her chin. "She's _hurting_, Marluxia. Look."

"I know," The coral-haired man sighed, "It's one of the reasons why she's different."

"It hurts to be stuck here all day with nobody to keep you company, doesn't it?" Larxene's eyes narrowed. "I bet you don't even know what you're _really_ feeling at the moment. How can you - you don't remember what it's like to have a heart!" Her words hardened at the end and the back of her hand swiped at Naminé's cheek, sending the younger girl tumbling off her chair and onto the floor. Larxene straightened up and glared down at her. "Look at her - no fighting instinct whatsoever...doesn't even know how to defend herself…"

Naminé felt the tears flowing freely now; her cheek burned as much as her eyes did and she touched the sore skin with her fingers. Through her tear-filled vision she saw Marluxia's blurry outline stepping in between her and Larxene.

"Now's not the time, Larxene." His deep croon warned.

"Just _look_ at her!" Larxene pointed a finger at the crying girl, who was still rubbing her cheek. "How can Superior put so much faith into _that - _this weak, useless little-"

"Running your mouth off a little early today, are we?" Said a voice Naminé did not recognize. She turned her heard towards the source of the sound; purple and black fog swirled in a circular motion by the farthest wall. A man stepped through; he was around Marluxia's height, with spiky, fiery red hair and a mischievous smirk on his face. There were peculiar black markings underneath his vivid green eyes.

Larxene huffed and crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"

The stranger chuckled. "I could hear you from the other end of the hall. Thought I'd see why you were so worked up." His eyes darted to the girl on the floor with her hand patting her cheek, and he frowned. "Tsk, tsk, Larxene - Superior won't like it if he hears what you've done to poor Naminé."

"He's not going to hear it!" The blonde growled. She stomped all the way to the door, casting one more dirty look towards the red-haired man before slamming it shut behind her.

"There's no need for you to be here." Marluxia said calmly.

The stranger chuckled again. "Why don't I take things from here, Marluxia? I'll keep tabs on little Naminé here - you can go babysit Larxene for awhile."

The coral-haired man's brow scrunched together. "Why the sudden generosity?"

The stranger shrugged his shoulders. "Is it a crime to be kind to my fellow Nobodies?" His gaze drifted over to Naminé, who was slowly rising to her feet. The smirk returned to his face. "Who knows - maybe we'll end up becoming good friends."

The young girl returned to her seat, her cheek still stinging. Marluxia brushed his hair over his shoulder and made his way towards the door.

"Very well then," He reached for the handle. "But just what exactly are you up to?"

The redheaded man raised a fiery eyebrow. "Dunno what you're talking about, Marluxia." The door closed with a soft click. When he was sure Marluxia was gone the stranger turned around to face Naminé, who was rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. He gave the girl a wry smile and brushed his fingers through his long red spikes. "You better get used to it, kid - it's not gonna get any easier from this point."

His voice was blunt, almost dry; she pulled her fists away from her red-rimmed eyes and blinked up at him. She wasn't sure if he was trying to be nice or not. "T-thank you…" She trailed off when she realized she didn't even know his name, and she lowered her stare to her lap.

"The name's Axel," He tapped his temple with an index finger, "Got it memorized?" When Naminé nodded he continued. "I was around when Superior brought you here but it's natural to forget your first few days."

That was only partially true, but she nodded anyway and reached for her crayons. She could hear the rustling of his leather coat and the clopping of his boots as he moved to stand behind her; he leaned over to peer at her drawing and gave out a low whistle, surprising her a little bit.

"Huh, you're better than they give you credit for." He smirked.

A strange tingling sensation bubbled up in Naminé's stomach; her face began to feel uncomfortably hot, and her mouth curved upwards in a small, shy smile. Furrowing her brow in confusion, she slowly reached upwards to softly pat her face; her smile immediately turned into a frown when she realized how high her temperature was.

What was going on? Was there something wrong with her? Was she getting sick?

"Heh," Axel's deep voice cut her reverie short, and she glanced over her shoulder to look at him, "They also weren't lying when they said you were different."

The warmth in her face didn't leave yet. "W-what...what's happening to me?" She asked, her voice slightly shaky with fear. She didn't like this feeling, and the fact that this strange man was amused wasn't really helping.

"You were embarrassed," Axel's smirk returned, and his arms moved to cross over his chest, "It's a feeling, an emotion," His smirk immediately disappeared, replaced by a contemplative frown, "Which is something you shouldn't be expressing - actually you shouldn't be expressing anything at all."

Her head tilted to the side. "Why not?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "I thought you already knew."

She reached for her hair. "Um…"

He sighed and shook his spiky head, and her face began to warm up again. "Didn't Superior or someone tell you how we don't hearts, therefore we're unable to express emotion?"

Another strange sensation washed over her, but this time it felt like she just ate a sack full of bricks. Her eyes were staring at her lap again, and her fingers were absently fiddling with each other. "Xemnas...Xemnas told me about that, but he never really went into much detail." She shyly glanced up at her companion. "Were we...were we always like this? Did we ever have hearts to begin with?"

"Once upon a time, yeah," Axel smiled grimly, "But somehow we lost them - lost them to darkness. Usually when that happens you turn into a mindless dope, but if you had a strong heart you retain a human form - much like you and me. Anyway, when we lost our hearts our bodies formed a life of their own, thus creating us. We were never supposed to exist, but we do anyway." He sighed and rubbed his neck again. "Without hearts we're void of all emotion - the closest things we have to actually _feeling_ are our memories of when we had a heart, when we were capable of feeling," He turned to look at her and the heat returned to her face, "But for some reason it seems you're able to feel real emotions, which is pretty interesting."

Naminé reached upwards to tug on her hair. "What makes you say I'm capable of doing that?"

"Well, for one thing - you can't remember your past so you don't know what it's like to feel in the first place. Your confusion over your embarrassment is plain proof of that." Axel's eyes drifted off to the side for a moment, chuckling darkly to himself. "In a sense you have more of a right to exist than any of us do. Frankly I'm a little jealous - or at least pretending to be."

A painful lump had grown in Naminé's throat during Axel's lengthy explanation, and it was hard to swallow it down. She wondered what kind of emotion she was feeling now, but she thought it might be a little strange to ask him. "Marluxia...he said that you and the others are searching for something."

"We're trying to find a way to be whole again." The redhead was now staring at the white flower vase. "We want to find our hearts; we want to complete ourselves. Without a heart you're only half of a person - maybe even less."

The lump in her throat grew, and her eyes began to well up again. That wasn't exactly very uplifting.

Axel noticed her dismal expression and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "It's a hard truth to take, I know, but it is what it is, right?" He gave her a small smile, "Besides, remember what I told you? You're different than the rest of us - you can blush, you can have that unexpected tickly feeling inside and you can smile without forcing it. If you can feel without a heart, then it must mean you're more than just half, right?"

How did he know about the tickly feeling? "More than...half?"

"Yeah," He shrugged his skinny shoulders, "I dunno. That's just the way I see it." He stood up and straightened his coat. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you."

Her head jerked upwards. "You're leaving?"

The redhead smirked and brushed his cheek with his thumb. "Ah, y'know - you gotta do what you gotta do. The boss man's nailing us left, right and centre with missions so I better check in and see what he has for me." He extended an arm and the strange purple and black fog reappeared.

The heat in her face - _embarrassment, _was that what he called it? - returned and she resumed playing with her fingers. "W-will...will you come back?"

Axel stepped closed towards the portal; it looked like he was going to go all the way inside but he swerved around on his heel at the last minute and gave her an ambiguous smirk. "If I have the time." He walked halfway in. "Later."

Naminé blinked as the portal vanished into thin air. She shook her head and reached for her drawing, which still needed to be completed.

Why couldn't he just give her a straight answer?


	4. The Thirteenth Member

**The Thirteenth Member.**

She knew that Axel fellow wasn't to be trusted.

He never came back after that day, much to her confusion. At first it hurt a little bit - she was kind of expecting him to visit for at least an hour or two to keep her company - but as the days dragged on by she mustered up the strength to brush it off. It was probably just a stroke of luck when he strolled into her room that day to tell Larxene off; she wouldn't be surprised if he thought of her like everyone else did: a frail, pitiful little girl holed up in her room all day with nothing but her crayons to keep her company.

Today started off as any other day: Naminé woke up, showered, changed and moved to her usual spot at the head of the white table to start yet another picture. She sighed as she reached for her crayons, tugging on her hair with her free hand. A peculiar hollowness ached in the centre of her chest - it almost seemed to be telling her that she wasn't supposed to be here.

She shook it off and decided to focus on the drawings she didn't finish yet, reaching for a jungle-themed one. She drew and coloured quickly, surprised at how easily the inspiration was coming to her. Usually she would have to force herself to remember the image, but today was different: it just seemed to flow out of her, for some reason.

As she reached for a brown crayon, a new image flashed across her mind, catching her off guard. Her hand was suspended in midair, her fingers twitching over the stick of wax. She furrowed her brow, forcing the image into her head again and reaching for another blank sheet of paper. Voices began to pop into her head as she reached for her crayons.

_"It wasn't a dream! ...Or was it? I don't know. What was that place? So bizarre…"_

_ "Where's Kai-"_ The voice fizzled out of focus for a minute, and then cleared up again, _"I thought she was with you!"_

_ "This isn't a dream!"_

_ "This is totally weird...I'm in another world!"_

In her head was a picture of a boy she had never seen before, which was not unusual since she had images of unfamiliar places and people come to her all the time, but the only difference about this picture was the strange feeling that stirred within her when she thought of it.

The boy looked around her age, with gravity-defying brown hair that stuck up and out in every possible direction, and boyish blue eyes as deep as the oceans she drew in her previous works. He had a large, impish grin on his face, similar to Axel's but somewhat more innocent-looking. In one hand he carried a large, key-shaped weapon. He was so unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time; the conflicting emotion bubbled inside of her, tickling her insides.

_"I'm not a kid! And the name's-"_

Naminé's hand immediately reached for her crayons and she began to draw quickly, in fear the image of the boy would fade away. The curiosity burned within her as she drew in his eyes, his toothy smile, his jagged points of hair: was he a friend to her in the past? Were the both of them connected somehow? Why was she only feeling this way now, when she drew so many pictures of other strangers before? Why was this boy so special?

What was his name?

She began to colour him in: she used yellow for his shoes, red, white and black for his outfit and brown for his hair. His eyes were the hardest to do since she had no specific shade of blue that matched his colour. She managed to get a close replica by mixing a few shades together.

When she was finished with her drawing she picked it up with her wax-stained fingers and held it out at arms' length, staring at it from a distance. The odd conflicting feeling stirred inside of her again, and her frown deepened. She felt like she _had_ to remember who this boy was, for some reason.

Frustration over the fact that she couldn't remember who this boy was bubbled ferociously inside of her; it was getting to the point where she feared she might explode. She shot straight up from her seat, tugging on her hair, and decided to pace the room for a little bit. Maybe walking might help ease her mind.

After walking up and down the same line for about an hour she concluded it wasn't helping at all; she needed more space to walk, more things to distract her. These white walls weren't quite cutting it.

Her flaxen head slowly turned towards her door - the door that led to the rest of the castle. A strange, nervous fluttering flapped around her hollow chest like a restless bird beating around its cage; could she…?

She couldn't recall Xemnas restricting her from wandering around the castle grounds...

She slowly stepped towards the door, her sandals clopping against the floor and her hands slightly trembling by her sides. A painful lump formed in her throat and she forced it down as she reached for the silvery knob. Her fingers stuttered over it and the corners of her mouth were quivering; what if Marluxia or Larxene…

A rush of determination surged through her veins and she shook her head vehemently; no, she shouldn't be afraid of them. Xemnas never said anything about her not being allowed to leave her room. She was pretty sure it was okay; as long as she didn't actually _leave_ the castle Xemnas wouldn't mind…

Why would she leave anyway? She didn't have anywhere else to go.

Naminé sucked in a breath as she quickly turned the doorknob and pulled it towards her. A cool rush of air swept through her face as she walked out of her room for the first time since Xemnas brought her here; she had forgotten how spacious everything was.

She continued to stroll down the hallway, awing at the futuristic motif and the wide open spaces. The high ceiling opened up in a few places, allowing the silvery hue of the oddly shaped moon to shimmer through. Everything in the castle was silver, white, grey and black, and there was a strange symbol that kept popping up every now and then: it looked like a part of a heart, but at the top there were three pointed sections spread out like a cross. She tilted her head to the side as she grazed her fingers over the symbol that was emblazoned on the silvery wall, and she shivered eerily - though she had no idea why she was compelled to do so.

She continued to wander around; she found out how to use the strange invisible platforms that took her from floor to floor and she explored the different areas of the castle, peering into empty rooms and ducking out of view when a figure cloaked in black was close by. At one point she stumbled into a large, circular-shaped room with nothing in it but a group of tall white thrones; she figured this was a sort of meeting room for the Organization. She wondered how they managed to get _on_ those thrones in the first place.

Naminé was tugging on her hair the entire time she dallied around the castle; the walk was relieving to some extent, but it wasn't enough to chase away her thoughts of the peculiar brown-haired boy. She continued to think about him as she jumped from floor to floor, peeping into the different rooms and hiding away from the Organization members; as hard as she tried she couldn't diffuse the grinning, blue-eyed boy and it irritated her.

It continued to bother her, even when the day waned (or at least felt like it was). She spent a good hour or so trying to figure out how to get back to her room, and when she finally did she trudged into the bathroom to prepare for bed. The image of the boy with spiky brown hair and intense blue eyes nagged her relentlessly as she crawled underneath the sheets; his face flashed repeatedly in her head and she grimaced in frustration, grabbing her pillow and pressing it against the side of her head as if she was trying to squeeze the image out.

"Strange." A muffled voice from the other side of her door caught her attention, and she pulled the pillow away so she could listen properly.

"Yes," Agreed a voice she didn't recognize, "Lord Xemnas found him in Twilight town just this morning. Has no memory of his past. Doesn't show much emotion, either."

"Much like Naminé during her first few days." That sounded a lot like Marluxia. What was he doing on her floor so late - wait, more importantly: _who_ was he and the other person talking about? Naminé was gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles were whitening.

"I was under the impression the two might have some sort of connection," The other voice, which was much deeper and more monotonous than Marluxia's, "So Lord Xemnas asked I inquire her about it, but it seems that she's already gone to bed. There's no light coming from the other side of the door."

"Ah."

"The boy must be in possession of extraordinary powers, however - he can wield the Keyblade."

"Hm, that must be why Superior was so eager to recruit him; he'll be the final step in completing our mission."

"Precisely."

Final step?

_Keyblade?_

"Perhaps I can mention it to Naminé tomorrow morning," Marluxia suggested, "Since Larxene and I see her on a regular routine."

"That would be good."

"I'll be sure to do it then."

There was a sound of a hand clapping against leather, presumably someone's shoulder. Naminé heard the sound of their boots clopping away, getting fainter as they moved farther from the door. The image of the boy with brown hair and blue eyes flashed across her mind again and she frowned; maybe they were talking about him.

Was he the thirteenth member of the Organization?

She shook her head as she relaxed into her bed, easing into the pillows and closing her eyes. Even if the boy _was_ the thirteenth member what sort of importance did he hold to her and the others? Axel and Marluxia mentioned something about wanting to be whole...completing Kingdom Hearts...was this boy and this _Keyblade_ the final step? She was beginning to believe the unfamiliar voice; the constantly flashing image, the voices, the strange feeling...surely there must be some connection.

Oh well, there was no use pondering about it now; if she did she would end up not sleeping at all. She pressed her face into the pillow, forcing the image of the strange boy out of her mind. She would think about it more tomorrow.

_--_

_A/N: Thank you all who have read/reviewed so far =) I truly appreciate it!  
Don't worry, Roxas will be coming soon =p Just be patient!_

_Oh, and I put a new poll up on my profile. Vote if you can =) _


	5. The Boy

**The Boy.**

Getting the image of the boy out of her head was harder than she thought; Naminé ended up with only a few hours of sleep. Along with the image, the strange conversation she heard last night kept replaying in her head.

When she dragged herself into the shower she was plagued with more strange images of the boy, along with more voices. It distracted her to no end, almost causing her to slip in the shower a few times. The images consisted of the boy exploring unfamiliar places - places she had drawn before. Sometimes she would see the boy interacting with people she drew previously; he was connected to all of her drawings.

_"So, this is called a Keyblade?" _The boy with silver hair and turquoise eyes; he appeared to be older than the brown-haired boy.

_"Huh? Hey, give that back!" _The brown-haired boy's voice was in between the high ring of a child's and the awkward stutter of a teenager's.

_Keyblade..._Naminé wandered over to the table and traced the drawing of the boy with her fingers, eyeing the key-shaped weapon in his hand. Was that what it was called? The way Marluxia and that stranger talked about it last night made it sound like it was very important.

The small blonde yawned as she moved to sit at her usual chair; as soon as she sat down Marluxia and Larxene walked in.

"Aw, look Marluxia - the brat had a rough night." Larxene simpered.

The younger girl rubbed her eyes. "I...I couldn't sleep." She managed to mumble before yawning again.

"Hm, interesting. I wonder if it's coincidence, or - dare I say - fate?" Marluxia rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and Larxene rolled her eyes.

"You are so cheesy."

"What are you talking about?" Naminé tilted her head to the side, curious; she wondered if Marluxia was referring to last night's conversation.

"As of yesterday we are now officially known as Organization XIII." The coral-haired man smirked.

Larxene rolled her eyes a second time. "And out of all the new recruits we could've found Superior had to get the wimpiest-looking one. He's right up there with Demyx."

"New...recruit?"

"Yes," Marluxia flipped his feathery hair over his shoulder, "Number XIII, the Key of Destiny. He will lead us to our completion, and we'll have our hearts back sooner than we think!"

Key of Destiny…maybe the boy in her head really was the new recruit. "Where is he right now?"

The older blonde scoffed. "If you're looking to make friends with him you're outta luck - he's even more unresponsive than you were when you first showed up."

"Axel's watching over him right now," Marluxia shrugged, "He's supposed to be showing him around, but the boy's as still as a statue." He made his way over to the table and glanced at the young girl's latest drawing. "Hm, something new?"

Naminé nodded. "It's different from all the other images I've been getting - I feel like I know this person...but at the same time I don't know who he is." The thought made her feel disappointed in herself and she reached for her hair. "I don't even know his name…"

Marluxia scrutinized the drawing, picking it up and squinting at it. "Hm…"

"Lemme see!" Larxene bounded over to his side, peering over his shoulder. "Ooh, now _that's_ interesting."

"Interesting?" Naminé raised her head, "Why?"

"That's none of your concern." Marluxia carefully folded the drawing and tucked it into the inside pocket of his long black cloak. "We're finished for today."

"W-what?" The smallest blonde shook her head, "Do you know who he is?"

"Didn't you hear what he just said?" Larxene snapped, and Naminé flinched, "He said it's none of your business!"

"Wait," The girl pleaded, "Who is he? Is he the thirteenth member? What's a Keyblade? Please, I have to - I want to know!"

The door slammed shut, and Naminé was by herself again. She sighed and pulled on her hair, unsure of what to do next. Frustration pooled inside of her and she suddenly had the urge to leave; maybe walking around would do some good.

She didn't want the risk of running into Marluxia and Larxene, so she waited a few minutes before standing up and leaving the room. She wandered around the white and silver corridors, distractedly looking around her as she shuffled around the castle. The walking actually did help a bit; it felt like a bit of the weight pressing down on her shoulders was being removed little by little with every step she took.

After half an hour of walking around she decided she was calm enough to return. Naminé turned around and raised an eyebrow at the various corridors, wondering which path was the right one. Great - she was lost. Again.

She swallowed hard and randomly picked a path, hoping she wouldn't run into a volatile member of the Organization. She passed by the many rooms she stumbled into the day before, but she knew none of them would lead her back to her room.

"Heh, this guy sure knows how to talk up a storm, eh?" She knew that voice - Axel?

She followed the voice, zig-zagging down through a few more hallways until she reached a large room with couches and tables. The opposite wall was made entirely out of glass; the heart-shaped moon glowed almost ominously in the centre of the night sky. She remembered this room, but she knew it wouldn't help her get back.

There were a few Organization members lounging around the couches: a young man with dirty blond hair was slouched over, playing a large, blue instrument; another young man with dark hair was quietly reading from a thick black book; two black-haired men and a blond man were playing cards.

"Geez," The familiar voice piped up again, and she backed up against the wall beside the doorway so she wouldn't be seen, "Let's hope you're not like this on your first day..."

Naminé craned her head a little so she could see where Axel's voice was coming from; she spotted the familiar mass of red spikes on the far side of the room, where a couple more couches were grouped together. The redhead was sitting with his back towards her, and beside him was a shorter figure with blond hair. The artist's pale brow scrunched in confusion when she eyed the tousled golden spikes; wasn't his hair supposed to be brown…?

"So when's he supposed to start his training?" One of the black-haired men - the one wearing an eyepatch - turned around in his seat to acknowledge Axel, who was gripping the blond boy's shoulders in a vain attempt to get him to sit up straight.

"In a few days," The redhead grunted; she could hear the strain and frustration in his weary voice, "But I dunno how he's gonna _learn_ anything when he's acting like this - he's a freakin' zombie!" He snapped his fingers in front of the blond's face; judging by the younger boy's still stature he didn't react. "Great - the fate of our mission rests on this kid? I dunno anymore, you guys..."

Naminé frowned and retracted her head from the doorway, sighing deep and shaking her head; if only she could see his face…

There was the sound of someone getting up from their seat; the blonde girl turned around to see what was going on. "Maybe lugging him around Twilight Town will get him to speak up a bit - c'mon," Axel huffed a little as he pulled his blond companion to his feet. He chuckled sarcastically and patted the boy's shoulder, "Lively fellow, isn't he?"

The blond man sitting by the man with the eyepatch laughed softly. "He'll talk in a few days' time - he's going to have to eventually."

Axel laughed again and lightly pushed the boy forward; the blond slowly began to circle the couch, and when his face came into view Naminé's head was suddenly filled with a painful ringing. The grey lounge room disappeared, and for a few minutes all she could see were strings of unfamiliar images: people and places flashed across her eyes and the ringing slowly grew into voices - voices she had somehow heard before.

Cringing, the blonde sank to her knees and clutched the sides of her head, squeezing her eyes shut as a few tears escaped her pale blue hues.

_ "A Keyblade that unlocks people's hearts…"_

_"...are you really - no. It can't be. I won't let him go!"_

_ "What's...what's happening to me? Falling...falling...into darkness."_

_ "...is that you?"_

_ "Sora!"_

"Sora?" Naminé spluttered, blinking the images away; she was kneeling on the floor, just outside the lounge room. She crawled back towards the wall and poked her head out a little to peer into the lounge room; Axel and the blond were still there.

The artist tilted her head to the side as she examined the blond boy's face again; he looked so much like the brown-haired boy in her visions - _Sora,_ was that his name? - with the same blue eyes and boyish features, but at the same time there were a few things about him that set them apart: this boy's hair was shorter, blond and more messy than spiky; his bangs fell over his eyes and there were parts that stuck up at the end. His face looked less childlike, and his expression was more serious, solemn even.

But then again he wasn't really showing much of an expression in the first place…

"Alright," Axel's voice rang into her ears and she shook out of her daze; the redhead was chuckling and shaking his head, "I guess it's time for me and Roxas to go." He jokingly threw the lifeless blond a grin. "Ya ready, buddy?" He extended an arm and a portal formed a few feet in front of them; the blond automatically walked into it, and Axel gave the remaining Organization members a hearty wave before following suit.

"Roxas..." She mumbled, tugging on her hair; she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to remember what he looked like. For some reason she wanted to look at him some more, scrutinize him. A tingly feeling bubbled inside of her, expanding and rising into her chest, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. Her memory etched the boy's - _Roxas_ - face again and the feeling intensified.

She willed herself to stand up when she remembered she was _still_ lost, and she wandered away from the lounge to resume her journey back to her room. Her mind was completely distracted, however - she nearly walked into a room where Xemnas and a blue-haired man were conversing in secret - and it took her at least two hours to figure out how to get back.

The minute she walked into her room she made a beeline for her white chair; Naminé grabbed a blank piece of paper and a black crayon and immediately began to sketch. In mere minutes she was finished; a boy with solemn eyes and disheveled spikes was standing in the middle of a white void, his arms listless by his sides and his shoulders slightly slumped. With no pencil to sketch with it was a little difficult to make the drawing realistic, but nonetheless the detail was very exact, from the way his bangs partially hid his eyes to the tassels of his black cloak.

The pale artist couldn't help but smile when she gazed at what seemed to be her new favourite drawing; her fingers absently traced the outline of the blond stranger's jawline and when she realized what she was doing her cheeks flared up and she turned away in embarrassment, even though there was nobody around to see what she had just done. She slowly turned back towards the table, her hand tugging on her flick of hair like always, and she tilted her head to the side: what does this all mean? Why was she feeling this way?

Sora…

Roxas…

Were they connected somehow?

Every time she found something new she would only be confronted with more questions. She didn't know why she was wondering about such things when she didn't even know anything about _herself._

Was she connected to Sora and Roxas? Did she know them from before?

Why did she feel strange whenever she thought about them?

Why was Roxas here when Sora popped into her head first?

Did Sora have a heart?

There was a dull aching at the back of the artist's head and she groaned; she was thinking too much. She slowly rose from her chair and stumbled into the bathroom to change into her nightwear. It felt a little early still, but she figured some sleep would do some good - she didn't get a lot of it last night anyway, so she might as well catch up.

That night, she dreamt for the very first time.

She couldn't remember much, but she knew it was a dream because she could _see_ things - they weren't solid images or anything, but it was _something _and as long as there was something she considered it a dream.

She remembered seeing _blue._ Of course there were other colours - gold, a warm peach and even a bit of black - but the blue was what stuck out the most. It was deep, vivid, splashing, _blue_; there was no other way to describe it. She remembered how it was calling out to her, swirling around her like it was trying to get her attention. It was wonderful, beautiful and intriguing at the same time - she woke up the next morning feeling overwhelmed.

After showering and changing she made her way over to her table and got right to work; she grabbed her crayons and scribbled around a blank piece of paper, smothering the white with an array of yellows, peaches, blacks and, of course, blues. She felt ridiculously giddy for some reason when she reached for the blue crayon, and a grin stretched across her ashen face as she skimmed the page with the waxy stick. Her eyes flitted off the page for a brief second, catching the sketch of the boy - _Roxas - _she did the other day, and the giddy feeling seemed to double in intensity.

Naminé reached for the sketch and began to colour him in; she coloured his clothes black, his skin peach and his hair gold. She mixed in at least three shades of blue for his eyes.

It took a good five minutes for her to realize that the colours she saw in her dreams were the exact same ones she used to colour him in.


	6. The Incident

**The Incident.**

Ever since that day Naminé had been raring to see Roxas again. It didn't matter if she never got the chance to speak with him - all she wanted to do was _look_ at him. As odd as it sounded it was the truth: there was something about the quiet blond that made her want to just sit and stare in awe.

Apparently she wasn't the only one who thought the same way: the Organization couldn't stop talking about him. The small artist made a habit out of wandering the castle hallways after her daily experiment with Marluxia and Larxene, and sometimes she would catch a few words of the conversations the Organization members would be having (she would be well-hidden from them when this happened, of course). Most of them were curious and speculative: they questioned his abilities and his odd behaviour. A few were nonchalant: one of them - _Demyx, _she thought was his name - expressed how he seemed like a cool kid, but nothing else seemed to be of interest to him.

She would always take a quick peek into the lounge room - which she eventually found out was called the Grey Area - to see if Roxas was there, but she came up empty every time. The Organization was probably distracting him with things to get him to speak, or at least look like he was in the same universe as everyone else. While it was understandable it wore down her hopes in seeing him again; by the time a week had passed she was doubtful she was ever going to see his blond spikes and blue, blue eyes a second time.

Naminé waited patiently in her seat, her fingers drumming without rhythm against the white wood of her table - Larxene and Marluxia were supposed to be here by now. In all honesty she just wanted to get the experiment over with so she could walk around the castle - it was the only part of the day she looked forward to - but if they weren't here yet that meant she couldn't go out. The thought frustrated her - she was getting frustrated a lot these days, she noticed.

After waiting for another half an hour she concluded they weren't coming - or maybe she was just beginning to grow impatient. It felt like there were a million little bugs jumping around in her stomach; she needed to get _out_ of this room, and fast. She could feel those bugs' tiny little legs and feelers scratching against her insides as she bounded towards the door. The moment she wrenched it open and stepped outside the irritating scratching sensation halted, and she exhaled in relief.

The day took an even stranger turn of events when she realized how empty the castle seemed - well, the castle seemed empty all the time but usually she'd run into an Organization member or two. Today it seemed like they were nowhere in sight.

Was there something important going on?

She continued to roam the hallways, tugging harder on her hair whenever she passed an unoccupied room. She peered into the Grey Area and frowned in disappointment when it was completely empty. Where did everyone go?

She rode the elevator to a random floor and walked down yet another empty hallway. The only thing she could hear was the clopping of her sandals.

Wait - what was that?

She strained her hearing a little, and sure enough she could hear the muffled voices of a conversation. She shuffled closer towards the source of the noise - two large, white double-doors that looked so heavy she wasn't sure if she had the strength to open them. She knew it was best not to try, anyway, so instead she pressed an ear to the door and listened intently. She couldn't make out the words since the door was too thick, but it sounded like the entire Organization was in there. She took a step back and glanced up at the doors - was this the room with those tall thrones?

Naminé pulled on her hair some more as she mulled over her thoughts: what were they talking about? It must've been important if everyone was in there - was it about Roxas? Sora?

Frowning, she shook her head and resumed wandering the castle: if the meeting was as important as she thought it was she doubted they would be leaving any time soon. She knew Marluxia and Larxene wouldn't even bother to tell her what happened so she had no choice but to find out for herself. Some of the Organization members would probably be in the Grey Area after the meeting, so she figured she'd waste some more time by walking around.

After fifteen minutes she grew bored of seeing the same things over and over again; she really should've brought her pencil and a couple pieces of paper…

A shuffling sound was heard from around the corner and Naminé squeaked in surprise. She frantically looked left and right, searching for a place to hide, and scrambled out of the way. She ducked behind a thick grey column, but remembered to poke her head out just a little bit to see what was going on.

A handful of Organization members were walking and talking together; some she recognized, like the blond man and the shorter man with droopy hair, and some she didn't. Her head tilted to the side in curiosity and she strained her ears to listen to what they were talking about.

"So what are we gonna call ourselves now? Organization XIV doesn't sound as cool as Organization XIII…"

"Well, we'll have to see if she's capable of joining our ranks first."

"She's even more lifeless than Roxas was."

_She?_ There was another new recruit?

"I wonder what sort of powers she possesses…"

A flash of red appeared; Axel was trailing behind the group with one hand on Roxas' back. The blond boy looked a little more lively than the last time she saw him; his brow was scrunched in confusion, but his lips were the same emotionless straight line from the first time she saw him.

"So, d'you mind tellin' me what happened back there?" The redhead chuckled, and the blond looked up to acknowledge him, "You spaced out for a second."

Roxas ruffled his hair; Naminé curiously tilted her head to the side. "N-nothing…" He mumbled; his voice was low and somewhat husky-sounding, "Just...I was just thinking."

"Heh, maybe that's why you've been so quiet," Axel reached up to cross his hands behind his spiky head, "Well, you better start warmin' up your vocal chords 'cause tomorrow will be a big day for you!"

The shorter boy looked up at his companion again. "Why?"

The redhead chuckled again. "'Tomorrow you start working. You're finally gonna be of some use to us! Doesn't that sound like fun?" When Roxas didn't reply he sighed. "Well, I guess I can be excited for the both of us." He clapped the blond's back and veered around the corner. They were walking in Naminé's direction, and if she had a heart it would've been pounding at this point.

She realized she had to keep ultra quiet or else they would hear her, but she was so nervous her hands were shaking. What if they found her? Would Axel get angry? Would he turn her over to Xemnas? She shook off the frantic thoughts and kept as still as she could behind the white column, pressing her palms against the cold metal so they would stop trembling. Axel and Roxas were walking closer; it almost felt like their impending footsteps were thudding in the very centre of her chest. She swallowed hard and shifted behind the column, trying to conceal herself as much as she possibly could.

"Did you hear that?" Axel's head lifted, and Naminé's eyes widened. Roxas looked up too, and he glanced around but did not say anything. Axel shrugged his shoulders and rubbed the back of his head. "Heh, guess I'm hearing things. I thought I heard shuffling, like someone was moving around or something."

Roxas stopped walking for a second; he stood still in the middle of the hallway, looking straight ahead. Axel, who was a few steps away from him, was looking back at him with a confused expression on his face. Naminé's expression was no different.

Then, all of a sudden, the blond turned over his shoulder and glanced past the column and right into Naminé's wide, shocked blue eyes. Another string of images and sounds ran through her head.

The boy with spiky brown hair and vivid blue eyes - Sora. _"Gimme a break, K-"_

_"Sora, you lazy bum. I knew that I'd find you snoozing down here." _A girl around his age with short red hair and soft violet eyes.

_"Even if we're apart, we're not alone anymore...right?"_

Shells tied together to form the shape of a star. _"It's my lucky charm. Be sure to bring it back to me!"_

_"Don't ever forget: wherever you go, I'm always with you."_

She gasped and pulled back into the shadows; Roxas jerked back a bit as well, blinking rapidly. She was sure he saw and heard the same things she did.

"What in the worlds are you doing?" Axel called exasperatingly, and the shorter boy turned to face him.

"Sorry…" Roxas shook his head, "I...I thought I saw something." He jogged to the redhead's side and continued walking. They disappeared around another corner, leaving Naminé on her own.

She was pressed up against the wall with her hands crossed over her mouth, and her eyes were still wide. When she could no longer hear their footsteps she shook her head and stepped out into the hallway, absently tugging on her curl of hair. She suddenly felt very weak, and she had to lean against the wall for support; today's turn of events wore her out. There were just too many things to think about.

Why didn't Larxene and Marluxia come today?

Who was this _new recruit?_

Why did she get strange flashbacks when Roxas and her met eyes?

The small blonde pondered over these things as she made her way back up to her room. She kind of expected Larxene and Marluxia to be there, but when she opened the door and faced nobody she breathed a sigh of relief; there were too many things on her mind to deal with them today.

She sat at her usual spot by the head of the white table and grabbed a blank piece of paper; she wearily eyed the other pieces strewn all over the wooden surface and made a mental note to bind them together, or something. It bothered her how they were just lying all over the place.

She reached for her crayons and immediately began to draw Sora and the strange redheaded girl. She thought about the memories - their memories, perhaps? - she saw when she and Roxas looked at each other, and wondered if they were all connected somehow.

Maybe Sora and Roxas weren't the ones who were connected; maybe it was that girl and Sora.

But if it was just them, why would she and Roxas have their memories?

And if Roxas and Sora weren't connected, why did they have the same eyes?

And just who was that redheaded girl? What part did she have to play in all of this? And that silver-haired boy from earlier…

A dull pain began to throb at the back of Naminé's head and behind her eyes, and she groaned and pressed her forehead against the desk. She had been doing way too much thinking lately, and it was all because of this boy.

She wondered if this was normal.

She shook her head and sat up straight, sighing and reaching for a red crayon to colour in the girl's hair. She scribbled slowly, taking in the details of her face: she eyed her small nose, dainty lips and pale skin. When she coloured in her eyes she felt a strange stirring inside, but it wasn't like how she felt whenever she thought of Roxas or Sora.

It was more of a...closer feeling, like she personally knew this girl. She had a familiar feeling with Roxas and Sora but it wasn't as intimate as this. Naminé was more than certain she was connected with this girl, somehow.

Maybe they were connected like how Sora and Roxas were connected.

_Roxas…_

She tapped the end of her crayon against her chin; he supposedly couldn't remember his past either. That meant that the memories they 'shared' earlier were foreign to him too.

Maybe her and Roxas were connected somehow…?

Her headache suddenly flared up again and she pushed the paper away, sighing in frustration as she rose to her feet to prepare for bed. She had been thinking so much her own brain was telling her to stop.

Her head was hurting even more by the time she crawled into bed. She groaned again and pressed her pillow over her head, hoping the pain would subside soon. She clamped her eyes shut and forced herself to think of nothing so it would be easier to fall asleep, but as hard as she tried the only thing that came to mind was Roxas and how they met eyes today.

His eyes were so _blue._

Since it had been a few days since she had last seen them, the impact it had on her was just as strong as it was when she first saw them. She thought about the strange dream she had, the one with the swirling colours, and she felt heat rise to her face. Roxas was special, she knew that, but she didn't know _why._

But she wanted to find out. She felt like she had to.

Despite her headache, Naminé smiled to herself as she relaxed against her mattress. Tomorrow would be another day, and maybe tomorrow will be the day her and Roxas will finally get to talk to each other. If not, there was always the day after, and the day after that and the days after those. They weren't going anywhere; this was where the belonged. This was their home. They had all the time in the world.

Right?

--

_Day 7._

_ It's been a week since I got here. __Saïx told me to keep a diary, but he said nobody would check it. What am I supposed to write about?_

_ Well, I guess there were a couple interesting things that happened today. First they told us to go to the Round Room, where we met our new member, No. XIV. I couldn't really see the person's face since it was covered by a hood, but they weren't talking much - actually they didn't talk at all. Was I like that when I first got here? I think I was, but I don't remember too well._

_ Secondly, when Axel and I were heading to the Grey Area after the meeting I saw something strange. Axel told me he thought he heard something moving around, and for a second I thought I heard it too. When I turned around to see if anyone was there, I saw someone! It was a girl with blonde hair and big blue eyes. What made things even weirder was when I turned to look at her a bunch of strange pictures and voices came into my head, but it only happened for a split second. When I tried to tell Axel about it he laughed and called me crazy. I was pretty sure I wasn't imagining anything, though._

_ I wonder who she is?_


	7. The Theory

**The Theory.**

When Axel burst into Naminé's room this morning, she wasn't really surprised.

"Were you wandering around the halls yesterday?" He asked suspiciously; he leaned against the table with his arms crossed over his chest.

The small blonde fumbled with the end of her dress. "Erm…" She felt a blush spreading over her cheeks, and she lowered her head. "P-please don't tell Xemnas…"

Axel's chuckle startled her. "Nah, I'm not gonna rat you out so don't worry about that. I was just wondering why you were sneaking around the castle like you were up to no good."

Her blush worsened. "Y-you knew?"

"I only assumed you did because I don't know anyone else who lives in this place except for the Organization and you," Axel rumpled his crimson spikes with a gloved hand, "And since everyone was at the meeting yesterday that rules out only one person: _you._ Heh, so I wasn't hearing things after all…"

"Why...why are you so concerned?" Naminé asked quietly.

"Well," Axel lifted himself off the table and began pacing the room, "Wouldn't it be natural for me to be suspicious if I knew you were hiding around the castle, eavesdropping on people's conversations?"

Naminé was sure her entire face was red by now. "Er…" When Axel laughed louder she flinched. "I didn't mean to…" She tugged on her hair, "I mean, I-"

"Don't hurt yourself," Axel raised his hands, and the little blonde flushed even more, "It's cool, you don't have to explain yourself. I guess Roxas wasn't seeing things, then."

She glanced upwards. "What do you mean?"

The redhead shrugged his skinny shoulders. "He told me he thought he saw a blonde girl yesterday, but I told him he was crazy."

The blonde tilted her tousled head. "But why didn't you tell him the truth? I was _really_ there."

Axel looked flustered for a moment, which confused her, but he quickly shook it off and waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. The only thing you should be concentrating on are your little pictures. Believe it or not, they're more important than you think." He opened a portal and began to saunter his way towards it.

The artist tilted her head to the side. "Important? How?"

The redhead shrugged. "Beats me. Later." The dark fog engulfed him, and he was gone.

Naminé exhaled sharply and reached for her papers, her forehead creased with frustration. Nobody ever told her anything; in the beginning she didn't really mind, but now that a lot of new things were showing up - two new members and this business about Keyblades and whatnot - it would've been nice if someone informed her with some generic details, at least.

She scribbled mindlessly for a little bit as a means to relieve the tension building up inside of her; ten minutes later her white door swung open, and she raised her head to see Marluxia and Larxene bickering with each other in hushed, clipped voices. The small blonde strained her ears to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation:

"...not the right time!"

"Why not?"

"...Keyblade bearer…"

"...power...memory…"

"...Sora…"

"Sora?" Naminé piped up, and Marluxia and Larxene's heads immediately snapped in her direction.

"What did you just say?" The coral-haired man asked almost menacingly, and the blonde gulped nervously.

"Er," She mumbled; she gripped her dress tight but all she really wanted to do at the moment was reach for her hair, "I-I heard you...y-you mention the name Sora…"

"Do you know anyone named Sora?" He asked suspiciously; Larxene remained wordless as she moved to lean against the table.

"N-no, but I...I have visions...of him...and other people too, but I only know his name and not...not the o-others."

Marluxia reached into his black jacket and pulled out the drawing of the brown-haired boy. "Is this the Sora you see in your visions?"

The blue eyes in the drawing seemed to be staring straight at her. "Y-yes, that's him. He...he's friends with a redheaded girl and an older boy with silver hair...I-I think. I see them together a lot...and when they're apart I...I can somehow feel their c-connection," Naminé frowned in contemplation, "As if they're t-together in a different sort of way...and not just physically."

Marluxia and Larxene met eyes for a split second. "I see." Marluxia flattened the drawing against the table and brushed his fingers through his hair. "Well, that certainly tells us a lot."

"Not really." Larxene had pulled off her gloves at some point and was now staring at her nails.

"W-what do you know about him?" Naminé asked quietly, her fingers fumbling with each other on her lap, "I-is, is he connected to me somehow? Or...or what about Roxas? Are they connected?"

"What do you know of Roxas?" Marluxia asked almost immediately; Larxene turned to face her as well, and she gulped again.

"N-nothing," The artist stuttered, "E-except that he can...he can hold a Keyblade too...and...and he's part of you and the others…"

"Ugh," Marluxia groaned and swiped at his bangs, "This might be a little more difficult than it seems. We need to inform Superior of this immediately."

"Why do we have to do it right away?" Larxene asked, shrugging her shoulders, "Just let things be for now; it might be a little fun to watch, if y'know what I mean." She grinned deviously at the end, and it somehow made Naminé even more fearful than before.

"No," Marluxia replied sternly; he lowered his voice and pulled Larxene further away from the table, but when Naminé strained her ears again she was able to hear their entire conversation, "Didn't you listen to a thing Superior said? It's not advisable for the both of them to-"

"Yeah, yeah," Larxene rolled her eyes, "I know, but I'm just saying - wouldn't it be fun to see what would happen if they…" She fluttered her hands and briefly glanced at the smaller blonde, "Y'know…"

"I know what you mean, but it can also put a...roadblock on our mission."

"Well, even if you tell him now it's still gonna take a few days for us to get ready for C.O."

"I know," The coral-haired man sighed, "I guess there isn't anything we can do until then."

"Exactly," Larxene grinned, "So let the chips fall where they may." She swerved around on her heel and walked back towards the table. "So, kid, I guess you've been wondering why you've been having strange pictures pop randomly into your head. Don't think it's just coincidence."

Naminé raised an eyebrow, and she turned to face her drawings. The drawing of Roxas was lying just a few inches away from her drawing of Sora; their faces looked eerily similar. "Um…do you...do you know why I've been having them?"

"Not exactly," Marluxia shrugged, "But we've noticed a pattern in your visions. All of them are connected to him-" He jabbed a finger on Sora's face, "-Sora, this boy with a Keyblade."

"So," The small blonde frowned, "W-we...we're connected somehow…?"

"That's what we've theorized, yes."

"Now don't you feel special?" Larxene sneered, and the smaller blonde shrunk in her chair, "It looks like you've got yourself some kind of power. Maybe you're not as useless as we thought you were."

"We never thought she was useless," Marluxia pointed out, "It was just you. Superior knew from the start that she had some sort of potential."

Naminé continued to fumble with the end of her dress. "What about Roxas?"

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"Is...is he connected to Sora too?"

The coral-haired man's eyes moved to her drawings on the table. "Do you think he is?"

The artist thought back to the moment her and Roxas met eyes, and her frown deepened. "I think so…"

"Oh yeah?" Larxene smirked, "What makes you think that?"

Should she tell them? Would they believe her? She wasn't so sure. Naminé's fingers twitched; she wanted to pull on her hair so badly. "Um…"

Someone banged impatiently on the door, and all three Nobodies turned to face it. "Hey, are you guys in there?" An aggravated male voice asked on the other side. The smallest blonde tilted her head, wondering who that voiced belonged to. She never heard it before.

Larxene rolled her eyes. "What do you want?" She spat.

"VII just told me to come looking for you!"

"Hm, perhaps Superior has something for us today." Marluxia flipped his hair over his shoulder and moved towards the door; Larxene followed him. "We'll continue this tomorrow, Naminé."

The small blonde sighed; it always had to end when it got interesting.

She watched them disappear behind the door before deciding to resume her drawing - what else was there to do, anyway?

She decided to draw a picture of both Sora and Roxas. She noticed that even though they looked very alike they also had drastic differences: Roxas' face was less childlike and his expression was solemn, while Sora had round cheeks and a bright, toothy smile. Roxas' hair was a golden blond mess; Sora's hair was a rich brown that stuck up and out in every direction imaginable. Roxas only wore black while Sora had colour in his wardrobe. Even their eyes looked different, though they were the exact same colour: there seemed to be some sort of a stern sadness in Roxas' stare, while Sora's was relaxed and cheerful. In many ways she compared them to dark and light. Night and day.

When she was finished colouring them in she held her newest masterpiece at arms' length to examine it properly: both boys were standing next to each other, so alike and different at the same time. They stared at her with their vivid blue gaze - one serious, one enthused. Her chest contracted uncomfortably for some reason, and she dropped her paper to touch the empty space where her heart should have been. Strange...it almost felt like something was beating, for a moment.

She turned around in her seat, wondering if it was safe to go out for a little walk. She felt a little restless, especially with the conversation she shared with Marluxia and Larxene earlier. Sora and her were connected. Her drawings meant more than everyone thought. Maybe she was of some use to this world after all.

She knew there was something she was missing, something she didn't know yet. She had a feeling it had to something with Roxas...and possibly that new recruit? No one ever mentioned anything about her yet.

There were too many things to think about; it was making the poor blonde's head spin. Naminé shook her head and groaned, forcing herself to stand. She needed to walk this off before she got another headache.

She decided to avoid the Grey Area since she figured the Organization would be busy with missions today - the urgent interruption with Marluxia and Larxene gave her that impression. She wandered the corridors, not really caring where she was going. As long as she wasn't thinking too much about what she had been told today she was fine.

Naminé continued walking with her eyes trained on her feet, shuffling through the different floors of the castle. She tried to push away the worst of her thoughts, and it worked to some extent - the only thing she couldn't stop thinking about was Axel's words before he left her:

_ "Don't worry about it, kiddo. The only thing you should be concentrating on are your little pictures. Believe it or not, they're more important than you think."_

Maybe he knew something Marluxia and Larxene didn't? It sure sounded like he did. Why couldn't he tell her? She had the right to know, didn't she? This was _her_ drawing talent he was talking about - of course she did! She-

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she collided into something. She stumbled backwards in surprise; she didn't hit it hard enough to get hurt, but it was hard enough to throw her off balance. She squeaked in fear as she felt herself crumbling to the floor, but the second before she hit the ground she felt something strong curl around her wrist, and before she knew it she was back on her feet again.

"Huh?" When she finally looked up to see what she bumped into, her eyes widened. She bumped into some_one…_

Roxas blinked back at her; his eyes were as wide as hers, and his mouth was partially open. "U-uh…" His voice wavered a little; he sounded nervous.

How come she wasn't getting any weird pictures flashing through her head? The strange heat flushed back into her face and Naminé forced herself to do something - _anything._

"Sorry." They apologized at exactly the same time. Naminé's blush grew worse and she turned away; Roxas gulped and lowered his stare to his shoes.

What was she supposed to do now? When she turned to look back at him she noticed that he had just looked up to meet eyes with her. It was like they had all of their movements rehearsed. "Um, I…" Her voice was higher than usual, "I w-wasn't looking where I was going. I didn't mean…" She lost track of what she was going to say and she felt the tips of her ears grow hot.

"It's...it's okay," At least he seemed as nervous as she was; it kind of made her feel a little better, "I wasn't really paying attention either."

His timidness was appealing, in a way. She felt a smile come onto her face, and she folded her hands behind her back. "I heard you're new around here," When he looked up her smile broadened a little, "Your name...it's Roxas, isn't it?"

He looked a little dumbfounded for a bit, but when he heard his name his expression relaxed and he gave her a smile that warmed her insides. "Y-yeah. I'm Roxas." His eyes lowered to the floor again. "Er, I'm...I'm afraid I don't know your name, though…"

"That's okay," For some reason it was easier to talk to him now - his smile must've done something to her, "My name is-"

"Roxas?" Axel's voice came from around the corner, and the smaller blonde gasped slightly. The redhead sauntered down the hallway, nonchalant as usual, but when he saw the artist standing awkwardly in front of the Key of Destiny his expression changed: he raised an eyebrow and a corner of his lips curved into a sly smirk. "Oh, what a surprise." She wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Hi, Axel." Roxas nodded towards his friend; he turned around and gestured to his newer one. "See, I told you I wasn't seeing things. There really is a girl living with us here!"

Axel didn't look impressed nor surprised. "Heh," He chuckled darkly; why was he acting so strange? "Well, whaddya know."

The small blonde fiddled with her fingers. "Um…"

"Sorry to cut this short, but we gotta call it a day. You've got another long day ahead of you tomorrow, Roxas, so you're gonna need all the rest you can get." Axel clapped his companion on the back. "C'mon." The redhead gave the girl an unreadable look before turning around to head back where he came from.

"Uh, okay." The blond frowned and rumpled his tousled hair. "I'll...I'll see you later…" He hesitated, and Naminé gave him a timid smile.

"Naminé." She finished for him. Roxas grinned, and her chest swelled again.

"I'll see you later, Naminé." He gave her a small wave before jogging down the hallway to catch up with Axel.

Her name on his tongue sent a strange sensation down her spine. She shivered involuntarily, but she shook it off and began the journey back to her room. The only thing she could think about now was how they bumped into each other, how blue his eyes were and how shy he sounded when he admitted he didn't know what her name was.

Naminé wanted to see Roxas again.

She wanted to talk to him again, to see his smile. She wanted to know more about him and the missions they were sending him on. She wanted to know if he was connected to Sora, or if he even knew Sora in the first place. She wanted to know if he was getting strange images in his head too. She wanted to see a Keyblade.

Axel did mention that he was going on another mission tomorrow, right? That would mean he would be gone for the whole day. The thought brought an ache to the artist's chest as she trudged into her room; that didn't give them enough time to talk, to get to know each other. They didn't even have the time to arrange a next meeting: what if that was the last time they would ever get to talk to each other?

But then again, if he was walking down that hallway that must have meant he was heading back to his room. Maybe he'll end tomorrow's mission around the same time as today, and he'll be in that hallway around the same time they bumped into each other. Maybe if she was in that hallway again at the same time, they would see each other again.

But how would she know what time that would be? She had no clock, and it was always nighttime here. She probably had to keep returning to that hallway until she saw him there - she had to keep guessing. She would be risking a lot: what if someone other than Axel saw her? What if Axel lied when he said he wasn't going to tell anyone she was wandering around? What if he was telling Xemnas right now about how he saw her and Roxas talking to each other?

Naminé shook her head and rubbed her face tiredly. Axel wouldn't do that. He kept his promises...didn't he? She sure hoped he did. She washed up and changed in the bathroom before crawling into bed. She decided she would play around with the time tomorrow, poking in and out of that same hallway until she saw Roxas again. She had no other choice, really.

She wasn't going to let today be the last time they would see each other. She knew Roxas meant more than just a chance meeting.

She would see him again tomorrow. She was going to make sure of it.

--

_Day 8._

_ Axel and I went to Twilight Town today. He taught me a lot._

_ Before we RTC'd (Returned To the Castle) we swung by the clock tower and had some sea-salt ice cream. Axel called it the "icing on the cake" after a successful mission. Well, except that there was no cake - just the ice cream. I don't know what to write in this thing!_

_ Oh, wait - I _do_ have something to write about. I met that blonde girl again! After RTCing I was heading back to my room when I bumped into her. I wasn't really looking where I was going, and I guess she wasn't either. She seemed really shy at first - I was too, actually - but she warmed up a little afterward. She knows my name. I wonder how? I didn't know hers, though, which was pretty embarrassing. She told me her name was _Naminé. _I like the sound of it._

_ I wanted to talk to her some more but Axel came and told me I had to rest because I had another mission tomorrow. I wish I didn't have to go. I wanted to know why I haven't seen this girl around as often as I've seen the others. Is she a part of the Organization too? Why doesn't she have a black coat like me and Axel and the others? How come she doesn't have an 'x' in her name like we do? I tried asking Axel about it, but he didn't really answer me. It seemed like he didn't want to talk about her. Was that a bad thing?_

_ I hope I'll see Naminé again. I'll walk by that hallway again after tomorrow's mission - maybe she'll be there. I really hope so._


	8. The Connection

**The Connection.**

Naminé was determined to see Roxas again. She made sure she was going to see him today.

Larxene was her only visitor today; Marluxia was taking Roxas out on his second mission.

"I shoulda just ditched you today," The older blonde sighed; she was sitting on the chair on the opposite end of the table with her boots propped up on the edge, "I don't have anything interesting to say. Marluxia's the one who does all the interrogating."

The younger girl stared at her lap. "Um…" She slowly raised one hand to tug on her hair, "Do...do you know what kind of mission Marluxia and Roxas are...are doing today?"

Larxene scoffed and stared haughtily at her nails. "Beats me. Why would I care? That kid talks as often as Demyx thinks!" She snickered at her own joke. "Why are you so interested in him, anyway? Does someone have a widdle cwush?" She glanced up from her nails to bore holes into her blonde companion, and when she eyed the flustered expression Naminé was wearing she threw her head back and laughed. "Gosh, this is too much for me."

The artist shook her head. "I...I'm afraid I don't understand."

The older of the two rolled her hazel-green eyes. "Of course you don't." She muttered. She lifted her boots off of the table and sauntered towards the younger blonde with an intimidating smirk playing across her thin lips. "Y'see, _Naminé-"_ She enunciated her name in a sickly sweet voice, "-Roxas is a very special Nobody, just like you. He has powers, just like you."

She smaller blonde glanced upwards. "I have a power?"

Larxene chuckled darkly. "Sure you do - look at what you've done here," She pointed to a few of the drawings scattered around the table, "These images, these memories that aren't yours...surely they must mean something, right?" The way her voice sounded, even though it was sort of kind, made Naminé think she was up to something. Was she trying to help her?

"Um...I guess so…but...but what do they have to do with Roxas and I?"

"A lot, believe it or not." The older blonde smirked. "These memories - Sora's memories, actually - are related to the both of you. You are both connected to him, if you haven't figured that out already. I'm pretty sure you have - you look a little smarter than the other brat."

The artist frowned. "Y-yes, I sort of came to that conclusion…" She looked up again, "But can Roxas see these things too? Does he draw pictures of Sora's memories? What's my power, Larxene?" Her large blue eyes returned to her lap. "I'd really like to know...I feel like everyone's been keeping things from me."

"To be honest with you, kid, we _are_ keeping things from you," The older of the two rolled her eyes, "And we're doing it for good reason, so it's best you don't question and just let the answers come to you. Besides, there's no rush! You're young - live a little!" When the younger blonde looked up in confusion Larxene sighed and raised a hand to her hair. "Maybe you're not as smart as I thought…"

"But…" Naminé played with her thin, ashen fingers, "I want to know...I want to know why I'm always seeing things. I want to know why I always...I always feel compelled to draw them out. I want to know why Roxas and I are connected. I want to know who Sora is, and who those two people I keep seeing him with are." Her voice rose a little in volume. "Do you know these things, Larxene? Do you know the answers to any of my questions?"

The older blonde looked a little stunned. Maybe she wasn't expecting such curiosity from someone so small, so timid, so fragile-looking. "You've been thinking too much for your own good, kid," Larxene narrowed her green stare, "And that isn't necessarily a good thing."

Frustration cackled inside of her. "But...don't I have the right to know these things? Is it really fair for you to hide information about me? I don't know anything about myself...yet all of you seem to." Naminé's eyes began to sting and she bit her lip to keep from crying. "Can't you at least give me one small detail…?"

The taller of the two scoffed. "Y'know, I'd be feeling sorry for you if I had the ability to feel at all." She grabbed Naminé's chair and forced it around so that the smaller blonde was facing her; the artist cowered and clamped her eyes shut as Larxene chuckled sinisterly. "Look at you-" Naminé opened her eyes and glanced down at herself, and the older blonde laughed again, "-have you ever given the thought as to why nobody ever _lets_ you in on anything, or why you can't even leave this damn castle?"

The sniveling artist sniffled and shook her head. "N-no…not...not really..."

Larxene straightened up and placed her gloved hands on her hips. "Well, lemme map it out for you then: aside from drawing pictures, what else are you capable of?"

"Erm…"

The older blonde laughed darkly. "Exactly. If I threw you out into a random world right now and told you to take out a giant Heartless, d'you think you'd be able to do it?" When Naminé shook her head Larxene bent over and caught the small girl's chin in between her index finger and thumb. "Your powers are only good for the indoors, squirt. It's best you keep it that way."

"B-but...but I don't...I-I don't even know w-what-" Larxene squeezed the artist's face a little harder, and she whimpered in pain. "L-Larx-"

The older of the two relinquished her grip, and Naminé immediately reached upwards to gingerly massage her cheeks. Larxene shook her head and scoffed. "Pathetic. I don't understand how someone with powers like yours can belong to someone so meek and useless."

The younger blonde sniffled. "But…" Was there even a point in asking anymore? Before she made up her mind Larxene was already halfway out the door. "W-wait-" The door slammed shut, and the artist flinched.

Was that why everyone's been keeping secrets from her? Did they think she wouldn't be able to handle the truth? Or was it because her abilities were so powerful, they were afraid of her?

And what of Roxas?

_Roxas._

She was supposed to see him today. She _wanted_ to see him today.

Still rubbing her chin, Naminé slowly rose from her chair and approached her door. She listened intently, and when she couldn't hear Larxene's boots clacking against the floor she slowly pulled her door open. She hastily made her way to that same hallway, and her shoulders sagged with disappointment when she found it to be empty - maybe she was too early. She really hoped she wasn't too late.

She dejectedly made her way back upstairs, but she made sure that wouldn't be her last attempt to see him. She would dally in that same hallway for at least ten minutes before giving up and going back upstairs. She would wait for an hour, and then she would roam out again. She continued doing this for the rest of the day; it was tiring, yes, but she knew it was going to be worth the risk once she finally got to see those blue eyes again.

This probably had to be her ninth attempt. The small blonde huffed as she rose from her seat, absently brushing off her white skirt, and moved to her door. She opened it a crack and took a quick glance around the hallway to make sure there was no one there, and when it was clear she shuffled out and made her way down to that same hallway.

She had a feeling this was going to be it this time. It had to be - if this was her ninth time that meant nine hours had passed since Larxene left, which meant that it was almost the end of the day. Roxas would've had to finish his mission by now.

When the hallway was empty again, her eyes began to sting. Was he not coming? Maybe he was frightened of her and decided to take a different route to his room. Maybe Axel advised him to avoid her as much as possible. Maybe Larxene told him about how pathetic and insignificant she was, and how she wasn't worth befriending.

Naminé choked on a sob as she watched the tears drip out of her large blue eyes, falling and splashing on the pearly white floor beneath her feet. Who would want to befriend someone like her anyway? What use would she be to anyone? She didn't even know who she was - why would anyone else like somebody who didn't know who they were?

"Naminé?"

The small blonde's head jerked at the mention of her name. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and turned around: Roxas was standing a few feet away from her, his brow scrunched with worry. "W-what...what's wrong?"

The artist felt her cheeks burning, and her eyes dropped to her sandals. "I-it's nothing, really…" Her voice wavered, and more tears trickled down her pallid cheeks. She could hear Roxas' boots clopping hesitantly towards her, and the heat in her cheeks grew worse. She could see the toes of his boots now, and a painful lump formed in her throat.

"Um…" She glanced upwards to see Roxas sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, "I...I want to say something, but I don't know what to say…"

At least he was being honest. She tried her best to smile through her tears. "It's okay...I…" She hesitated for a bit, wondering how to word the thoughts jumbling around in her head, "I was just having...a long day, that's all."

Her new friend gave her an apologetic smile. "Me too - I went on my second mission today and my head already feels like it's spinning."

The small artist tugged on her hair. "Are...are the other Organization members nice to you?" She asked timidly.

The blond rumpled his already unkempt hair and gave her a shy grin. "Sometimes...yes. I'm new, so they kind of push me around a little." He dropped his hand and his eyebrows raised a little in curiosity. "Are...are you new here? I've never seen you around…"

Footsteps were heard from the end of the hallway, and Naminé's eyes widened. "Oh no," She whispered, and began to back away but Roxas grabbed her wrist and shook his head vehemently. His gloved touch on her skin sent a strange feeling down her arm, and she felt her cheeks heat up again.

"Don't go," He pleaded silently, "I...I want to talk to you some more." His eyes were pointing downwards and he was frowning.

At least he was feeling the same way. Naminé thought fast; she pulled him down the opposite end of the hall. "We'll talk in my room, then." She looked over her shoulder and threw him a timid smile. He gaped at her for a few seconds, but he smiled back and let her pull him to wherever she was going to take him. He trusted her too easily, but she didn't take it in a bad way.

After twisting down hallways, riding platforms and avoiding wandering Organization members the blond twosome finally made it up to the topmost floor of the Castle That Never Was. Roxas was glancing around the stark white hallway in confusion, wondering why he had never even heard of this floor before.

"I wonder-" He started, but when Naminé turned around to place a finger against his mouth his eyes widened and his cheeks coloured.

She wanted to laugh at his flabbergasted expression, but she kept her resolve. She slowly opened the door to her room and stepped inside, pulling Roxas in with her. "We're here." She said softly, and his shoulders relaxed in relief.

"Hiding from everyone was even harder than the mission I went on today." He chuckled and mussed up his hair. He looked around the room, his eyes wide in slight surprise. "This room is all white too…" He murmured to himself.

The smaller blonde shrugged her skinny shoulders and made her way towards the long table. "I don't know why it's like that," She replied quietly as she sat down at her usual chair, "Everything they've ever given me was white." She glanced at his black cloak and frowned; maybe all of this whiteness was trying to tell her something…

Roxas hesitantly approached the table, his eyes wandering around the different pieces of paper strewn across the smooth surface. His eyebrows raised inquisitively when he eyed the drawing of him, and he reached for it. Naminé's cheeks burned even more as her blond companion gingerly picked up the drawing in his gloved hands, and when his brow scrunched together to examine it properly a large lump grew in her throat.

What was he thinking? Why did he look like that?

Did he not like it? Did he find it strange how there was a drawing of him in _her_ room?

After what seemed like years later his face finally relaxed and he returned the drawing to her, smiling widely. "You're pretty good," He chuckled shyly and ruffled his gold-spun spikes, "All of your drawings are good, actually." He sifted through the different pieces of paper. A few minutes later his frown returned. "You...you don't have a place to put them, or something? Nothing to hold them together?"

The petite artist shook her head; she was still holding her drawing. "N-no...they...t-they just give me these pieces of paper, and-" She nodded towards the box of crayons, "-those to draw with."

"Hm," Roxas scrutinized the stubby sticks of wax, "They're getting really short."

She tugged on her hair. "I-I know…" She watched him pull up a chair. "S-so...what kind of mission did you do today?"

The Key of Destiny shrugged. "It wasn't anything special. Marluxia was just teaching me how to fight and stuff, much like yesterday with Axel," He pulled off his gloves and ran his fingers through his hair; he seemed to have developed a habit of doing that. "I wonder why they're making me do all of this?"

The blonde gave him a contrite smile. "I ask myself the same question." She gestured towards her drawings. "Marluxia and Larxene...they come every morning and watch me draw things. They never tell me why they come, though...and they never told me why I even draw in the first place. I have a feeling they do know…" She was pulling on her hair again, "But they just won't tell me."

"That doesn't seem very fair," Roxas frowned, "You...you have the right to know those things, don't you? They shouldn't be hiding things about yourself from...from you, if that makes any sense."

Naminé smiled; he was sincere, at least. "Yes, I understand what you're trying to say. T-thank you for being understanding."

The boy shrugged again. "No problem." He stood up and stretched his arms. "Anyway, I better get going. I have another training mission tomorrow, so I need my rest."

She stood up as well and led him to the door. The thought of him leaving left a heavy, almost sinking feeling in her chest and it was sort of difficult to breathe. She ignored it, however, when she turned the doorknob and smiled. "I hope I'll see you again soon."

He smiled back and stepped halfway out of her room. "I'll come back tomorrow," He assured her, "I promise." He waved before dashing away, and when Naminé no longer saw him from the end of the hallway the sinking feeling grew worse.

She hated not knowing what she was feeling; it was a frightening experience for her whenever she felt something unfamiliar. That whole embarrassment incident with Axel was one thing, but this was something else - this was almost _painful._ Why was she hurting? She could feel a pulling sensation in the middle of her chest, but at the same time she felt so empty, so hollow.

Sighing, she made her way back to her table to fix things up. She wished she had someone to talk to about this. Being new to her own emotions was intimidating.

At least she was talking to Roxas now, though, and he even said he'd be back tomorrow! A tiny smile crept onto the artist's face as she stacked her drawings up against the box of crayons; maybe that meant she wouldn't have to feel so alone anymore. She finally had someone she could relate to, someone who was just as confused and curious as her. Maybe they could find answers together. The thought made her optimistic, and she temporarily forgot about the empty sinking feeling that was slowly consuming her.

By the time Naminé crawled into bed the only thing she could think about was how her and Roxas spent time together today, and how she could relate to him when he was expressing how the Organization members pushed him around because he was new. He didn't seem so different from her, and didn't Larxene mention something about them having something in common?

_"Roxas is a very special Nobody, just like you. He has powers, just like you."_

What did Larxene mean by that? What powers was she talking about? Did they share the same powers? Were they really connected like she thought she was?

The little blonde groaned and pressed her face against her pillow. She seemed to have come up with more questions with every passing day, and they kept piling up since she couldn't find any answers. She hoped that now her and Roxas have begun talking she would be able to figure out some things - after all, it seemed that the Organization was trying very hard to keep them from seeing each other.

Hopefully she would get some answers soon.

* * *

_Day 9._

_The past few days, the other members have been showing me how to fight and do mission stuff. They also told me more about the Organization, and myself. I still don't really get what a "heart" is. But apparently, it's a vital piece of who I am - so I've decided to cooperate. If I collect hearts, I can complete Kingdom Hearts. Then I'll be whole._

_Oh, I also got to see Naminé again, just like I said I would! When I saw her, though, she looked really out of it. I didn't know what to say, but she told me it wasn't a big deal so I ignored it - but at the same time I was still kind of worried. She took me to her room and I learned that she likes to draw stuff. She drew a picture of me - it was really detailed. It looks like she's in that room a lot, since she had a lot of pictures and all of her crayons were getting really short._

_I promised her I'd come back tomorrow. I really want to see her again - I like talking to her. I feel strange when I talk to her...like I've been with her somewhere before, but I can't seem to remember when or where. I feel bad for not remembering, but she hasn't mentioned anything so maybe we haven't met before._

_I wonder if Naminé knows what a heart is? Maybe I should ask her tomorrow._


End file.
